Insomnia

It's strange how much we depend on sleep to get by. Yet all my life I have struggled with nightmares, and now I feel childish saying that I still do. But the truth is, as we age there are so many more things to become afraid of and paranoid about. Not to mention how restless I have become, as though uncomfortable in my own skin, in my own house. It seems as though I should always be doing something, completing another project, preparing for the future. To live in the present sounds like a luxury when I am so preoccupied with deadlines and the potential for missed oportunities. How can I live in the future if I don't work now to create it in the image I imagine for it? How can I become comfortable in my skin, in my sleep, in my home, when I am responsible for ensuring that tomorrow I am still here, with a home, with a future? Anxiety is a nasty beast, and anyone who hasn't experienced it on a level beyond the typical likely has no idea what a treat that is. Are there people in the world who can think of just one thing at a time? People who are able to get in bed at an early hour, turn out the lights, and let their dreams come as their heads hit the pillow? How does one manage such a heavenly existence? Napping comes much more easily than sleep, probably because without sleep at night my body needs moments of the day to stop functioning. Still, sleep is as much a part of my problem as it is the solution. When I do fall asleep, it is with great trepidation, as I am usually awoken by terrifying dreams, which follow one another in quick succession, blending story lines and adapting to my various sleeping and waking moments. At night I will come up with a number of excuses, such as writing this blog, to avoid getting into my bed, where I will once again have to confront the sandman. I have no fear of the dark, but of what nightmarish figures my imagination will conjure in such a setting. Still, sleep, when peaceful, is one of the most precious experiences, allowing the mind to trasport you through the constructs of time and space that imprison our waking states, and instead we can take on an alias for each new dream, and new passports with which to peruse the world of the sleeping - one of endless possibility. So as I end this self-indulent post, wish me luck, that tonight, for even a few hours, I may enjoy the timelessness and boundlessness of pleasant sleep, putting my anxious mind to rest.